


Galaxy Preserved

by StormJedi



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Two characters in a bar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-10 00:13:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11115837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormJedi/pseuds/StormJedi
Summary: One second Shiro was in the Black Lion, the next he was in an alley. When Haggar discovers Shiro is there, she puts logic before emotion.





	Galaxy Preserved

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Talicor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talicor/gifts).



Shiro didn’t know where he was. One minute he was in the Black Lion, in possibly the most important fight of his life, the next he was waking up in an alley of some city. The pain in his head nearly caused him to black out again, like firecrackers behind his eyes. Shiro struggled to sit upright, trying to get his bearings. This alley was like any alley in any city, a dark grimy place, filled with whatever the alien equivalent of dumpsters was. The smell was definitely familiar.

When the firecrackers finally cleared, Shiro stumbled to his feet, nearly falling. He couldn’t take the chance that anyone might recognize his armor, Zarkon hadn’t exactly been private about his hunt for Voltron. Shiro took off his helmet, gauntlets, bayard, and jacket. He hoped the pants alone wouldn’t be too incriminating. Hoping the trash didn’t run ‘today’, he wrapped the various bits of his armor in his jacket and stuffed it behind one of the dumpsters. Shiro had no clue what planet he was on, a little bit of exploration was in order.

Trying to appear casual, Shiro stepped out of the alley and joined the throng of aliens trundling along the street. The majority of pedestrians were Galra—thankfully there were enough species present that Shiro didn’t stick out too badly. The thing he wished for the most was a simple cloak: you could do almost anything with the anonymity a cloak gave you. The street seemed to be geared toward entertainment, theaters, bars, and casinos made up the businesses along the street, rather than office complexes or factories.

Turning the corner, Shiro found his target. This bar was bustling, nearly twice as busy as every other establishment, and the clientele seemed to be an even split between Galra and other species. He hoped the massive amount of bodies in this bar would hide the fact that he wasn’t actually buying anything. Stepping into the bar, Shiro couldn’t read what the name was, he was blasted by some sort of dance music. If it wasn’t for the fact he had no clue where he was, he might have enjoyed the irony that Galra dance music sounded nearly the exact same as Earth dance music.

A large area, filled with bodies gyrating to the tunes, dominated this bar. Along both side walls, recessed nooks held booths, all of them filled with people relaxing in their downtime. From the door, the only free space Shiro could see was at the bar counter, where an automated bartender was trying to get to orders. As he walked through the mass of people, he noticed that the bar was based on little buttons at each stool. A patron would press the button at his stool to be added to the queue, and the robotic bartender would only serve the people in the waiting list. At least he didn’t have to worry about a bartender kicking him out for not buying anything.

By the time he waded through the dance area, he was dismayed to find the only free seat was between a massive hulking figure and a cloaked Galra. At least the Galra looked slim. Trying hard not to appear out of place, Shiro sat down on the stool, casually putting his elbows on the counter, trying to look around without looking like he was looking around. The Galra to his right reached out with a decidedly feminine hand, pressing the button to call the bartender to her.

The bartender made his way over after some time, humorously having an actual bar towel over his ‘shoulder’, despite being so precise Shiro hadn’t seen the robot spill a single drop of alcohol since he got there.

“Bartender,” the woman said, “two Sinner’s Judgments, on the rocks for me and my friend here.” She gestured towards Shiro.

“Generous of you.” Shiro said, hoping his nervousness didn’t come through his words.

“After all Zarkon has done, it’s only polite to offer a drink to the pilot of the Black Lion.” The woman said, so casually it took Shiro a moment to even realize the woman clearly knew who he was.

“I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He said, trying to find the nearest exit.

“Shiro, if I wanted you caught, you would be knocked out on the ground right now.” She said.

“Really, you expect me to believe you wouldn’t take the opportunity to get noticed by Zarkon? The chance to make an easy promotion?” He snapped, not even bothering to deny who he was.

The woman turned toward him, having to look up slightly to make eye contact. She had two precise red lines running down her face, the work of a blade or a tattooist he didn’t know. Her eyes glowed yellow, the only light under her hood. It was that soft light that allowed Shiro to see the silver hair, perfectly straight, framing her face. This woman didn’t need to turn him in for a promotion, because this woman was Haggar, right hand to Zarkon himself. The one who tortured him and forced him into the arena.

“What’s your game Haggar?” Shiro asked, teeth clenched.

“No game, I have no reason to hunt you or turn you in right now, so you might as well join me for a drink.” Haggar said.

“After all that’s happened, you really expect me to believe I’m nothing to you?”

Haggar laughed, Shiro could almost see a witch cackling over her brew. “Don’t delude yourself Shiro, at best you were just a plaything, at worst a distraction.” The confidence seemed to fade from Haggar, what she said next was barely above a whisper. “It’s out of my hands, Zarkon hunts you now, not me."

“So we sit here then? Because Zarkon called dibs on me, you won’t do anything?”

“Look, boy, Voltron just delivered the greatest defeat the Galra empire has ever known. The fleet is in shambles, Central Command is broken, and the enemy that did it whisked away without a scratch. I’m not at my favorite bar to attack you, I just want a drink.”

Shiro felt like he was thrown back in history to Christmas, World War II. Here they were, two soldiers from different sides. On this day, they met not as enemies, but as two people taking a breather before getting back into the fray. He looked down, this “Sinner’s Judgment” looked exactly like Scotch. Scotch wasn’t traditionally drunk with ice, but this wasn’t exactly Earth. Shiro doubted there was a Scotsman available to lecture the bar-goers on proper Scotch technique.

“A toast then,” Shiro said, lifting his glass towards Haggar. “To the calm before the storm.”

Despite all that had happened today, Shiro was still surprised when Haggar responded to his toast, slender fingers taking hold of the glass, lifting it to Shiro, then taking a drink. Best not to leave a drinking, buddy was too strong a word, acquaintance hanging. Shiro took a sip of the honey colored liquid, bracing himself for something terrible or strong.

Instead it was delicate, flavored. He tasted a pleasant combination of orange and cinnamon first, then a bitterness almost like dark chocolate hit. This was the best Scotch he had ever tasted, and he wasn’t even on earth. He took another sip to build up his courage, then set the glass back on the counter.

“You have excellent taste in alcohol, though it would probably taste fuller bodied if served with water instead of ice.”

“The people of Scotland may be able to handle it without ice, but Galra stomachs aren’t quite so resilient.” Haggar said, blatantly inferring she had been to earth and tasted Scotch.

“Why am I not surprised you’ve been to Earth?”

“You should be thankful that Zarkon is not as cruel as you suppose. Your planet was spared for its lack of resources or industry. Zarkon does not want slaves.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Shiro muttered.

“Believe what you will, Paladin, but ask yourself this, what cause do I have to lie to you? Unless you think your planet fought us off?”

“It’s just hard to believe Zarkon found Earth and did nothing.”

“I viewed some of the recordings your people have made. The best way I can explain this to you is what your culture refers to as the Prime Directive.”

Shiro coughed a bit, his drink betraying his surprise. “So now you mean to tell me you’ve watched Star Trek too.”

“It seemed culturally significant.”

“Humans have always held a love for the stars.”

“Maybe if the Alteans had a Prime Directive such as your culture pondered, the galaxy may have been very different.”

“What did they do?”

“You travel around in the Castle of Lions, do you not? The Altean people somehow had a head start on the rest of the galaxy, they solved most of the problems of FTL travel while the rest of us were learning to create fire. But the galaxy is a lonely place, and the Alteans wanted someone to talk to. They picked a candidate planet and jumpstarted their evolution, their culture went from cavemen to space capable in two generations.”

“Assuming I believe you, there was no one on Altea who thought this was a bad idea? And don’t tell me that people were the Galra.”

“Alteans were some of the best scientists the galaxy every produced, no one else has come close, though Voice knows we’ve tried. Historians theorize the Alteans simply figured two societies could grow faster than one, because they would view a problem from two different perspectives. The people the Alteans ‘created’ were not Galra, they called themselves Ascended, and their culture and people bear a remarkable resemblance to the Asgardians from Earth mythology.”

“So, Odin, Thor and Loki were all real people, aliens that visited Earth?”

“The Ascended had a unique genetic ability. Instead of dying from old age, they simply created the equivalent of cocoons around themselves, effectively becoming young again. Odin was the leader of the Ascended until their destruction.”

“Let me guess, by the Alteans, and Zarkon is trying to avenge the destruction of an entire species?”

Haggar smiled. “Close, boy, the Ascended were a warrior race. They didn’t want to debate science, they wanted to prove themselves through war. Despite everything the Alteans had given, the Ascended were still far behind them technologically. The Ascended decided to jumpstart a race to fight with like the Alteans jumpstarted a race to research with.”

“The Galra.”

“We were chosen for our devotion to the Voice, our deity. In Odin’s mind, religion was as far as you could get from science. Alfor was furious, but he couldn’t just leave the Galra in a stunted evolutionary development. The Alteans stepped in, filling in the gaps from Ascended teaching and brought the Galra up to the same level as the Ascended.”

“What happened to the Ascended?”

“In order to stop any more evolutionary shortcuts, the Alteans created the Council, a body composed of Alfor, Odin, and the leader of the Galra then, Nekan. Nekan was the first to truly utilize the Voice, and was the first Druid. The Council was supposed to keep all three nations in check, a sort of social responsibility for each species to ensure the other two were keeping the rules.”

Shiro couldn’t stand it any longer, the history lesson was nice, but he had to know why. “Not that this isn’t interesting, I’m betting you’re one of some tiny amount of people that know this, but why tell me?”

Haggar sighed, a weight seemed to settle on her shoulders. She hunched down over her glass. “Ten thousand years ago I swore loyalty to Zarkon, his fate would be mine. Now Zarkon may never wake up, and once again the Alteans threaten the Galra people. Alfor did terrible things to those that weren’t Altean, and I doubt he told his daughter about the real legacy of her people. The reason I’m telling this all to you, Shiro, is for the first time in ten thousand years I am not absolutely positive we will win. If the Galra lose, if you and your team conquer the galaxy in the name of Voltron, I want there to be at least one person who knows the truth.”

“And you trust me with it?

“You’re not a warrior, Shiro, you are a leader. Allura blindly wants to recreate Altean rule. The pilot of the Red Lion has the heart of a Galra warrior, possibly something you should keep an eye on, but much like the other pilots, they are focused only on the fight and not what comes after. Tell me Shiro, how many of your comrades do you expect to continue to be Paladins if Zarkon died tomorrow? The galaxy is a big place, without an enemy to fight, I think you’re Paladins would go their separate ways.”

“But not me, I would stick around.”

“There’s no shame in being a leader, but a leader has to have people to lead. You would find those people somewhere, and lead a crusade for some noble cause.”

“While the Galra empire would be crippled without Zarkon, you and I both know nothing would change overnight. Instead of unified rule, warlords would split the galaxy up amongst themselves. We would end up fighting a hundred Galra that think they should succeed Zarkon, a hundred tiny empires that would have to be overthrown.”

“You’re a quick study. I doubt the Paladins will ever see the good Zarkon has brought to the galaxy, but obviously you can see how much worse things would be without him. Think of the power vacuum after ten thousand years of reign. Instead of one fleet, the galaxy would be forced into supplying a hundred.”

“A Zarkon that died of his wounds would throw the galaxy into havoc, but if he died in combat with Voltron…”

“Then perhaps the galaxy would not suffer as much in the transition of power.”

“So this right now is the worst possible outcome of our battles?”

“Now you’re getting it. This goes beyond my bar, annoyingly. If you were to die or be imprisoned tonight, Voltron may never be whole, the Black Lion may refuse another Paladin, and the only outcomes are Zarkon waking or dying. With Voltron, there are two outcomes where the galaxy survives, and only one where it burns.”

“I guess I should find a way off this rock then.”

Haggar laughed, then took another drink. “There is no way off this rock without my help, Paladin. Do you even know where you are?”

“I wasn’t able to find a tourist ‘you are here’ map on the way over, so no.”

“This is Mithe, sister planet to Gal. Gal holds the administrative side of the empire, while Mithe supplies the industry. A combined homeguard fleet protects both, even if you could steal a shuttle, you would never make it out of orbit.”

“Thanks for the pep talk.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m going to help you.”

Shiro waited a moment, trying to figure out if Haggar was joking. He didn’t know if witches even could joke or not. “You’re not serious.”

“Oh but I am, this isn’t just banter. If Zarkon can’t get better, Voltron is the next hope for peace in this universe. Just because we’re on different teams doesn’t mean I can’t recognize the next best hope for the galaxy.”

“And I suppose we will just hop on your personal shuttle and you’ll drop me off at the Castle of Lions and then we go back to being enemies?”

“Pretty much.”

“I guess I’ll go get the rest of my stuff.” Shiro said, getting off the stool. Haggar’s hand shot out from her robe, grabbing his arm and stopping him mid-stand. Her fingers were warm, comfortable, but there was a steely strength behind them.

Haggar turned to face Shiro, still holding his arm with her hand. From within her robe, she pulled out a small disk-shaped object, the front was a screen, showing a grid and two blinking dots, one red and one blue.

“Red one is you, I’ll be at the blue point when I finish this drink.” Haggar said, taking another sip from her glass. She let go of his arm.

Shiro nodded, and made his way out of the bar. He didn’t realize how long he had been talking until he made it to the street. There was no longer a bustle of bodies trying to find a place to relax. The few people still out were quiet, just trying to make it wherever they called home. It didn’t take long for Shiro to get his stuff, thankfully still behind the dumpster, and start heading to the blinking blue point. He expected the disc to lead him to the west, into the industrial districts, where he had seen the silhouettes of landing bays. Instead he was walking east, into the residential area. As the glow of the entertainment line that split the two districts faded, the houses Shiro walked past became more luxurious. His destination was a beautiful estate, even in the darkness. A manicured lawn framed the walkway to the house, where a single window glowed from inner light. He knocked once.

The door opened to Haggar, dressed in casual clothes. Gone were the thick robes of her Druid office, instead she wore a simple summer dress, simple earthen tones contrasted by white patterns that gave depth. For the first time, Shiro could clearly see Haggar’s face. The two scars were fully in view, uniform and deep lines, the work of some alien dual bladed sword. The silver-white hair, so much like Allura’s, was split by two high pointed ears, like an Altean…

“If you’re done staring,” Haggar said, a smirk on her lips. “You can come inside whenever you’re ready.”

  He couldn’t think of a comeback. Shiro stepped into the house. He was in a living room, two low couches made of some type of brushed fur took up most of the room, a coffee table between them. Along the back wall was a fully stocked bar. To the right was an opening to what looked like the kitchen. To the left was a stairway to the second floor. Shiro set down his jacket, still an improvised sack containing his bayard and helmet, next to the door. Sneaking a quick glance, Shiro noticed Haggar was barefoot, and sat down on the right couch to unstrap his boots.

Haggar sat down on the left couch, tucking her feet beneath her. Haggar talked like a Galra, acted like a Galra, but had the hair and ears of an Altean. That was interesting, but there were more pressing things to ask about.

“I have to be honest, I expected to meet you at-“ Shiro said.

“At a landing bay?” Haggar finished. “I’m expected to fly out tomorrow anyway, no need to raise suspicion with an unexpected takeoff. The Druids are not above military inquiry, not even me.”

“May I ask you a personal question?”

“It depends how personal it is.”

“Do you have an Altean in your family history? It’s just, well your ears…” Shiro trailed off, he didn’t know why he was asking such a personal question of the person who was literally saving his life.

“I don’t see anything wrong with telling you, since Allura will tell you the same thing when you see her next. I am Altean, not Galra.”

“This is incredibly rude, but the skin color?”

“I’m sure Allura has shown off Altean shape-shifting ability, I’m just vain enough to keep my hair and ears instead of fully shifting.”

“You chose the Galra over your own people?”

“Yes, for reasons that may not be obvious. If you have time, I can finish the history, I think it explains my choice quite well.”

“I have time.”

“You humans are so… delicate, you will need to sleep before the journey, though perhaps I can condense things for you. Would you care for a drink?”

“Um, sure.”

Haggar got up, she pulled two glasses from under the counter and poured what looked like scotch into them. “Nekan agreed with Alfor, she blamed the Ascended more than the Alteans for what they did to the Galra. Nekan saw a chance to better the Galra by siding with the Alteans rather than the Ascended. Alfor freely gave technology and scientific techniques to the Galra people. The Ascended were furious, without anyone to fight they were unsettled. About two earth years after the formation of the Council, the Ascended attacked Gal with a fleet no one knew about. The Galra were unprepared, three quarters of the planet was turned into wasteland before the scraps of the Galran fleet were reinforced with Altean cruisers.”

“The Alteans didn’t see that coming?”

“How could they? Altean culture doesn’t understand violence, only scientific pursuit. Allura isn’t an example, she has been warped by her circumstances. It was only after Gal was turned to sand that Alfor took action. While the Altean and Galran fleets tried to match the Ascended in battle, Alfor started work on Voltron. Ten bitter years later, the project was complete. As much a weapon as a publicity stunt, Voltron was the answer to a war that had lasted for years. Alfor touted the creation as the end of Altean lives being lost, though he neglected to mention Galran lives in his speeches. One of the lions was given a token Galran pilot, though it was understood when the Ascended were beaten that the Galran would be replaced by an Altean.”

Haggar stopped to take a drink, the history lesson was draining her, her shoulders had slumped, even the glow of her eyes had dimmed. Shiro noticed her glass was almost empty, he had finished his a while ago. Shiro got up and went to the bar, pulling out two more glasses and filling them with the alien scotch. When he returned, he felt the urge to sit next to Haggar, perhaps to better listen, or perhaps for other reasons. Haggar didn’t stop him from sitting down, only nodded in thanks for the drink and continued to speak.

 

“Zarkon wasn’t a part of Alfor’s plan,” Haggar said. “Alfor didn’t expect a Galra to be so loved by the people. Zarkon had been chosen for the Black Lion only because of what the Alteans saw as a barbaric warrior spirit, but that was just common sense and a talent for battlefield strategy. The Altean paladins followed Zarkon because they were too scared to speak up, even knowing Zarkon was a temporary paladin, the Altean people loved him that much. With the aid of Voltron, the Ascended were quickly beaten back, till they only held their homeworld. Alfor gave the order for Voltron to glass the planet, and Zarkon refused. I still don’t know how, Zarkon would never tell me, but he somehow escaped the other four lions and the Altean fleet to make it back to Gal. The other four lions stayed behind to destroy the last of the Ascended people.”

“What happened to Nekan and Alfor?”

“Nekan was still on Altea in the Council room when this went down. Alfor refused to believe Zarkon acted alone and had Nekan executed. That was the last straw for Zarkon, he rallied the Galran fleet behind him and the Black Lion and attacked Altea, destroying it like Alfor destroyed the Ascended homeworld. The Castle of Lions escaped, and before Zarkon could chase it the Altean fleet made it back to Altea. The battle was terrible, both sides were decimated, but Zarkon came out on top. He vowed that never again would a world be destroyed, and he’s been neutralizing dangers in the galaxy ever since.”

“You make him sound like a hero.”

“He is a hero, how many more Alteas and Ascendeds and Galras would have been glassed, their people extinct, if Zarkon hadn’t stepped in. You may argue the galaxy isn’t free, but at least they are alive.”

“How did you come to side with Zarkon?”

Haggar smiled. “I have a few secrets I’ll keep, maybe next time.”

“Next time? You think this will happen again?”

“Voltron is unpredictable, and you appearing here was unexpected. I assume the time will come again when you will be teleported somewhere. Perhaps I should put up runes so your destination will always be my house?”

“Well, as long as you have this Scotch in stock, I see no reason not to visit.” Shiro couldn’t believe what he just said, was he flirting with the second most powerful person in the universe right now, and a sworn enemy at that? He had always been able to hold his liquor, was this alien stuff more potent?

“Only for the Scotch, I’m hurt.” Haggar said, pouting a bit. “Though I’m glad you like it, the species I get it from makes it from a unique blend of aphrodisiacs and liquor, they use it for their ceremonial fertility events.”

“I, is it hot in here?” Shiro asked, bewildered.

The grin on Haggar’s face could easily be compared to a predatory cat about to eat a meal. “Yes it is, why don’t we retire to the bedroom for the night? I’m not used to company, we’ll have to share.”

Haggar grabbed Shiro by his shirt and dragged him up the hallway. She didn’t turn on any additional lights, eventually all Shiro could see was two glowing orbs.

**Author's Note:**

> I was challenged to write this by some friends, and this is my first foray into the Voltron fandom.  
> Looking forward to writing many more things.


End file.
